


28 Dratchets

by Starstorme



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: 28 Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starstorme/pseuds/Starstorme
Summary: Eternally optimistic Drift and sarcastic, experienced medic Ratchet, forced to deal with the ups and downs of the 28 Character meme.





	1. Jealous

Drift didn't really like Tailgate.

In fact, he didn't like Tailgate at all. Not only was the young bot annoying and naïve, but when he was in the medbay…

He just got all the attention.

Not just Ratchet's. Every single bot in the medbay, be it First Aid, Rewind, or even Rodimus, gave Tailgate their full attention.  And Drift was jealous.

He didn't like to admit it at first. It didn't seem right to be jealous of someone he didn't even consider a rival.

But he'd finally snapped when Tailgate walked into the medbay that morning, when he and Ratchet had been having a conversation. Ratchet had turned to greet him, and Drift had simply glared at the blue mech and stalked away, doubting that anyone had even noticed him.  It was early afternoon now, and Tailgate had left.

Drift, seething on the inside, approached Ratchet, hands on his hips.  The medic turned, somewhat surprised to see his lover looking so furious.

"Drift… what's the matter?"

Drift folded his arms across his chest, tears stinging his optics. He fought them back and glared at Ratchet.

"Tailgate!" he shouted. "Tailgate's the matter!"

"I don't-"  Ratchet took a step back, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Drift- what's wrong?"

Drift took a sharp intake, and promptly burst into tears.

"Every time he comes here… you all give him your attention! This morning! You just- you just completely forgot about me, and…"

Ratchet took Drift into his arms as the younger mech's words broke off into sobbing.

"Drift," he finally said. "So it's about the attention?"

Drift nodded, burying his helm in Ratchet's chest plate.

Ratchet sighed, and held him at an arm's length, a small smile breaking over his face.

"Drift, how do I tell you this… The thing with Tailgate, is that- he's so ticklish, he needs all of us to hold him down. If I even barely brush against him, he just starts giggling. It's impossible."

Drift folded his arms again, glaring up at Ratchet through his tears.

"I don't believe you," he stated.

"Oh really?" asked Ratchet, and grabbed Drift's wrists with one hand, pinning them behind his back, and slipping his other hand down Drift's side.

"Ratchet! What- arrgh! Ratchet!"

The medic found himself laughing alongside his lover, while still tickling him non-stop.

"Please… Stop! No- Stop it!"

Ratchet traced his fingers along Drift's underarms, causing him to drop to his knees, shaking with laughter.

"Nope," he refused, as the swordsmech gasped for breath, tears running down his face.

"Okay- what- stop it- what do you want?!"

Ratchet continued tickling Drift as he pretended to think over it.

"Believe me," he finally said.

Drift choked on a giggle, and attempted to push his hands away.

"Okay, okay."

"Say it."

"I believe you! I BELIEVE YOU!"


	2. Silly

"I still can't recharge."

Ratchet rolled over to face his bondmate.

"Try closing your mouth," he recommended.

"Ratchet?"

"Drift, what is it this time?"

"I still can't recharge."

"I know. Now shut up."

"But I can't-"

"I KNOW!"

Ratchet, annoyed, sat up and glared down at Drift.

"Maybe if you stopped talking like Swerve on high grade and relaxed, you'd be able to recharge!"

His bondmate stared back at him, his expression a cross between amused and terrified in the moonlight. Ratchet sighed and lay back down. At least Drift would be quiet now. A few minutes later, he found himself in a state of semi-recharge.

"Ratchet?"

"Drift! What is it?"

"Why are energon cubes cube-shaped?"

"Because they're energon cubes. Now shut up."

"But why are they shaped like cubes?"

Ratchet groaned. Drift wasn't going to let him rest until he got a straight answer.

"I don't know."

He had never really thought about the shape of energon cubes before. Sure, he'd pricked himself on the corners, but he'd never actually cared about why they were shaped like that.

"That's not fair to the energon cubes," Drift stated. "They deserve to know why they are what they are."

"Honestly, Drift."

"It's true. Identity is a part of freedom. And Optimus Prime once said, 'Freedom is the right of all-'"

"Sentient beings. And last time I checked, energon cubes did not think for themselves."

"How do you know? Have you actually studied their processors?"

"Energon cubes don't have processors, Drift."

"Oh really? How do you know?"

"Because they don't."

"But why?"

"I swear, if you say the word 'why' one more time, I'll weld your aft to Swerve's."

"Why?"

Ratchet raised his left arm and lightly thumped it down on Drift's shoulder plate.

"Ow."

"You asked for it."

"No I didn't! I asked why you'd weld my aft to Swerve's."

"Because you're both annoying."

"Aww, Ratch… you don't find me annoying, do you?"

"I do. Now stop giving me those puppy eyes and go to recharge."

"Not until you tell me why energon cubes are shaped like cubes."

"Storage purposes. Ease of transport. Ease of consumption."

"But why aren't they shaped like cylinders? That's easier to drink from."

"You try hooking up an IV to a cylindrical energon cube."

"You can't get cylindrical energon cubes. Because you can't get cylindrical cubes."

"Fine. Cylindrical energon containers. Happy?"

"No. Not until you tell me why they aren't spheres."

"Spheres roll."

"So do cubes."

"Tell me, Drift, how often do you see energon cubes roll away when Tailgate drops them?"

"Every day."

"That's called sliding."

"Oh."

"Good. Now shut up."

"Not until you tell me why they aren't cones! Or pyramids! Or pentagonal prisms!"

"Shut up, Drift."

"Not until you tell me."

"Fine. Energon cubes are not shaped like cones because that is physically impossible, because they are cubes."

"Properly."

"Alright, you afthead. Energon cubes are not shaped like cones because cones are virtually impossible to stack and store, so they therefore waste space. Cones are also hard to hold and drink from, and spill easily. They are also inconvenient to use for medical purposes. Besides, cones don't hold enough. They're not very efficient. And they can't even roll properly.

"As for pyramids- pyramids are basically cones, only with shapes other than circles as the base. They prick your fingers easily, and the edges make it hard to hold. Pyramids don't stand very well, unless if you cut them through the point, and they are just as difficult to store.

"Pentagonal prisms are… Drift, are you still listening?"

Ratchet rolled over to look at his bondmate, and found him curled up against the wall, his pillow in his arms like a teddy bear. The young mech giggled quietly in his recharge, and held the pillow tighter, the expression etching itself onto his face.

He couldn't help but glow with pride at the sight. Drift could be a nuisance, but his spark was in the right place.

And at the end of the day, Ratchet would give anything to see him smile.


	3. Well-Shagged

“Please? Just one more, please, Ratch?”

Ratchet stretched out on the berth, exhausted already. Drift was just so young and insatiable, it was hard to keep up sometimes. And the old medic was too tired to feel bad about it.

“Please, more,” Drift was moaning, straddling his partner, just begging him to shove his spike up his valve again.

Ratchet grabbed him around his waist and pulled him down on top of him. Drift didn’t tense at all at the touch. He just fell, trusting his lover with everything. And then he found himself lying on top of the medic, those strong arms around him holding him tightly. There was nothing he wanted to do but lie there and know he was loved.

“Kiss me, Ratch,” he whispered, and Ratchet kissed him on the lips for just a second, because at this point he really just wanted to recharge. He offlined his optics.

“How did that feel?” Drift asked, smirking, but found his lover already asleep. A gentle smile graced his features and he cuddled up to Ratchet on the berth, shifting so he was lying beside him and not on top of him. He didn’t really mind when his lover was too tired. There was so much more to their relationship than just the intercourse, although that part was pretty fragging good. But when they just lay together like this, under the same stars, under the same heavens, Drift knew Ratchet loved him. That was all that mattered.


	4. Greedy

“Drift, I’m supposed to do a checkup on Chromedome in about five minutes, and you are undermining my duties as medic by not getting off me.”

Drift pouted and held Ratchet closer. They were sitting on Ratchet’s chair at his workdesk, Drift perched on his lover’s lap, arms around his shoulders. Ratchet sighed, resting his hand on Drift’s lower back with no level of reluctance.

Drift shivered. Those hands that had coaxed fading sparks back to life, holding him like this… even if they weren’t as good as they used to be, Drift thought they were wonderful.

Yep. He definitely wasn’t moving now.

And Ratchet just smiled, amused that Drift would do this every time he knew he had an appointment. The warrior thought he was being sneaky, but a quick visit to Blaster told him Drift looked through his appointment data pads when he wasn’t in the room. Now that was amusing. And infinitely adorable, like Drift always was.

It was another five minutes of gentle persuasion until Drift finally accepted that he wouldn’t be able to stop Ratchet from leaving. With a final hug, the medic headed down the corridor to “Explain to Chromedome why you’re late,” according to Drift.

There was a reason Ratchet always recorded his appointments earlier than they actually were.


	5. Kickass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus short:   
> "Ratchet? What does kick-ass mean?"  
> Ratchet turned around from his collection of spray paint.  
> "It means to kick a donkey," he replied sarcastically.  
> \---  
> "Drift… don't tell me you actually tried it.

Sometimes, the Decepticons underestimated them so much it was almost hilarious.   
  
Ratchet stood at the edge of the battlefield with a first aid kit. It was always good when his medbay wasn't overflowing with injured soldiers, but it was times like this when he felt lonely. What could he do when there wasn't anyone to fix up? What was his purpose? When peace returned to Cybertron- and it would, every war ends- would he just go back to running a small clinic in Rhodion?   
  
A flash of light as a shot reflected off a sword, shooting back the way it came.   
  
Drift stepped back, narrowly avoiding two more cannonshots on either side. There really wasn't that much he could do about fliers. It was mostly just a game of distracting them so everyone else could shoot them down, but he knew he'd always be a target. Because everyone remembered Deadlock, everyone wanted him dead.   
  
The snowy white warrior smirked as Skywarp's shot bounced back and hit himself, and the jet plummeted to the ground, right wing smoking. That was almost too easy. Now all they had to deal with were those annoying Insecticons…   
  
Ratchet couldn't help but smile. Drift was just so good, so amazing at what he did. It was impossible to not be jealous but that was way overshadowed by love. He was so proud of Drift. So capable, easily taking down Insecticons left and right. This was what he did best.   
  
But when Skywarp, seemingly defeated, raised his arm and fired again at Drift's turned back, it was Ratchet who intercepted the shot with a flying wrench and knocked the Seeker out with another.   
  
He would always have his back. And Drift would never need to know.


	6. Exhausted

Drift was pretty sure there was more wiring outside of Ratchet’s body than inside it, and that was concerning. But really, there was so much going on, so much he’d been through, and the prospect of losing his lover seemed like just another inconvenience in a majorly inconvenient world. This didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard. Of course it would be hard, his friend since the day they met being cut up and left to bleed to death. But at this point, feeling eluded him. He didn’t have tears left to cry. It was just too much to take, and Drift began doubting his own sanity as he gazed into Ratchet’s optics, those beautiful blue lights that were slowly fading.

Of course he was insane. If he had any sanity remaining, he’d be panicking, crying, holding Ratchet close and begging him not to go. But those were the actions of those who had hope, a will to survive. And now Drift had almost nothing left to lose. If he lost Ratchet, then he had nothing left but his life- and that made him invincible, didn’t it?

“Drift...”

The quiet, wavering voice slowly brought his mind back to the present, away from those daydreams.  _ See, _ Drift thought.  _ If I was sane, that would’ve happened instantly. _ For now, Ratchet was still here with him and he felt like he should at least show his lover he appreciated him. He still deserved to die feeling loved.

“Hey, Ratch. I’m here.”

He lifted the other off the ground  as gently as he could, trying his best to make it hurt as little as possible. He was being careful as if Ratchet was a glass doll who would shatter if he was treated too roughly. He lowered his love onto his lap so he could lie somewhere softer. Ratchet still groaned. It was hurting him, but there was nothing that could be done.

Their optics met again, and there was an instant mutual understanding, as if there was a bond between them. The same thing that had happened the day they met. The same thing that would happen the day they parted. Both of them knew they’d never see each other again. Ratchet looked disappointed. Drift resolved to make sure he left the world as happily as he’d arrived.

“Please,” Ratchet was begging, his voice so quiet Drift had to lean in to hear him.

“Anything you want. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Please just make it stop…”

His optics dimmed a little more. Drift ran a hand down his cheek.

“Make what stop? Ratchet? Stay with me.”

“It hurts… make it stop hurting, Drift, please…”

He was bleeding out, fast. And it hurt. It hurt so much he could barely talk, barely think, and when even that was beyond him, he focused on Drift’s optics, silently begging him to help him, to make it stop. And there was just a tiny flicker of sorrow in Drift’s bright blue optics. He was shattered, broken beyond repair, and a tear trickled down Ratchet’s face when he realised he was leaving his sweetspark behind with nothing left, nobody who loved him, nobody to love, nobody to hold him close when those insecurities finally took their toll on him.

“I’m sorry,” he tried to say. But his voice betrayed him, and then his spark, and then his life.

Drift felt like he should hold Ratchet closer and let him know he was loved, but something stopped him. Something didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the last of the emotion he had leaving him. Maybe it was the new invincibility he now had. Maybe it was the power. Drift didn’t know. He just got up and walked away into the forest, letting his dead lover’s body roll onto the ground to stain the dry soil cerulean.

He never looked back.


	7. Dancing

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Ratchet onlines his optics and Drift’s lying on top of him, gazing down at him with those gorgeous optics.

“I love you,” he mumbles.

Drift doesn’t talk, choosing instead to press their lips together.

“Don’t suppose it’s too early to frag me again.”

“At least me get up first…”

“Good luck with that.” 

Drift rolls off his lover’s chest, standing up and smirking, hands on his hips. Ratchet tries to get up and finds he can’t move.

“Oh, you little-”

Drift just stands there smiling, staring at his lover magnetised to the berth. This was probably the best idea he’d had in days.

“How did you figure out how to work these magnets anyway? Drift, you’re evil.”

“Well you’re beautiful. And it’ll be even better when you’re moaning and begging me to frag you harder.”

“Well, frag you, I ain’t doing that.”

A smirk, and Drift knows it’s a challenge. Wordlessly, he steps away from the berth and turns his back on Ratchet, knowing he’s watching. Dancing isn’t his forte. But he knows Ratchet doesn’t mind, he’s not much of a dancer either. And the medic bites his lip as Drift steps lightly, his back still turned, provocatively bending over and showing off his aft.

Ratchet curses quietly. Drift smiles, knowing Ratchet can’t see his face light up, knowing Ratchet doesn’t know he heard him.


End file.
